


Third Time's the Charm

by MudaMuda



Category: Hetalia: Axis Powers
Genre: Alternate Universe - Coffee Shops & Cafés, Alternate Universe - College/University, Alternate Universe - Human, Fluff, M/M, set sometime in the past 20 years
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-31
Updated: 2015-12-31
Packaged: 2018-05-10 15:35:36
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,064
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5591692
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MudaMuda/pseuds/MudaMuda
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A professor from the nearby university meets a talented barista working at a tiny cafe.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Third Time's the Charm

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Cyuubi (who doesn't have an Ao3 but whom I will totally tag if she gets one)](https://archiveofourown.org/gifts?recipient=Cyuubi+%28who+doesn%27t+have+an+Ao3+but+whom+I+will+totally+tag+if+she+gets+one%29).



He found it while exercising; cycling a different way back to his apartment. 

The early-winter sun had been hovering behind a cover of grey clouds all day, and the air was dense and chilly as it whistled past Ludwig’s ears and through his sweat-dampened t-shirt as he rode his bike. There was little traffic on this back street, allowing Ludwig to cycle more quickly. Eager to get out of the cold and back home to grade his students’ papers, he hurried, coasting as the road dipped gently down a hill, the wheels turning up dead leaves fallen from the spidery trees lining the sides of the road.

The tree cover on his right ended suddenly, giving way to a collection of small roadside shops and a grocery store, arranged around a parking lot.   

_ What an out-of-the-way place _ , Ludwig thought to himself, slowing down to see what types of shops there were. Aside from the grocery store, the only other thing that caught his eye was a cafe, which resided in the far corner of the lot, next to a decrepit antiques shop. 

Ludwig was unsure how much further he would have to go down this road until he reached the more populated college town, but he was beginning to get tired from riding against the cold wind. 

He decided to stop for a coffee.    

\--

The inside of the cafe was as small as the outside, with only a handful of mostly empty tables and chairs, but was warm and inviting. Pressing his hands together and blowing on them to regain some feeling in his freezing fingers, he stepped up to the counter and ordered a plain black coffee to go. 

The red-headed barista seemed cheerful, thanking Ludwig and flashing him a bright smile as he handed him his coffee. 

As Ludwig started to head out the door after finishing his drink, a latte resting on a table near the counter caught his eye. More specifically, the  _ design  _ in the foam atop the latte was noteworthy:

An intricate sunflower, created from nothing but milk and cocoa, floated delicately on the surface of the drink. The separate and distinct white petals and dark center had begun to dissolve into each other as the latte cooled, but it was nonetheless a work of art. Had the barista behind the counter really made that?

The large man sitting at the table (whom Ludwig had not noticed) picked up the latte and raised it to his mouth. Ludwig took this as his cue to stop staring, leaving the cafe immediately and continuing to mind his own business.

An hour later he was back at his apartment, preoccupied with work.

\-------------

_ Wow!  _ Feliciano thought to himself as he hung up his apron, preparing to leave for his next job.  _ Whatta hottie! _

Honestly, he had been thinking that exact phrase more or less repeatedly since about an hour ago, when he first laid eyes on that tall, blond, handsome man.  

Not many new faces tended to show up at the cafe-- which Feliciano had to admit was kind of out in the middle of nowhere-- so it was only natural that he would get excited to see a newcomer in the midst of all the regulars. Especially as hot as this one. 

Feliciano wondered if he would become a regular. He hoped so. This customer did not seem to be a grumpy old man like Arthur, who only had a taste for tea (if you want tea, why go to a coffee shop in the first place?), or a flirty professor like Francis who made eyes at him (and everyone else) over his cup of cafe au lait, or an energetic college student like Alfred who would show up every so often and throw back nine shots of espresso before rushing away again.  

Feliciano was a bit disappointed. The blond had walked in and out and had hardly stayed to drink his coffee, not giving Feliciano any time to even get his name. 

He had been a little sweaty, and looked like he was in a hurry. And he had been frowning, like he was grimly determined to drink his sad little black coffee and immediately go back to what he had been doing.

What  _ did  _ he do? Where did he work? 

And yet, somehow Feliciano felt as though he knew him from somewhere, but he could not remember...

\-------------

“...so I told him he should stop leaving his keys inside the flowerpot, but of course, Gilbert being Gilbert, he didn’t listen...”

“Right.”

“What are you looking at?” Francis asked. He and Ludwig had just finished teaching their respective lectures for the day and had bumped into each other in the parking lot.

“Oh. Just--” Ludwig gestured at the paper coffee cup Francis was holding, which bore the same logo as the cafe he had visited a few days ago. 

“This? Ah, yes.” Francis turned the cup in his hand, smiling approvingly at it, then taking a drink. “There’s a cafe not far from here, and the coffee is nothing to scoff at. I go there often. It’s very quaint… hidden in a small plaza by the side of some back road-- what is it called, now…? I’m not sure the road is even marked--”

“I’ve been there.”

“ _ Have  _ you!? So then…” Francis’ smile turned devilish. “Have you seen the barista that works afternoons? The pretty one with the auburn hair? He’s very talented-- he’s perfected the art of latte…  _ art. _ Ask him to draw something for you sometime.”

“Sure.”

“Anyway, I’ve made it a habit to visit in the afternoons just to hit on him. I’m making good progress, I believe.”

“You’re a dirty old man,” Ludwig muttered.

“But he’s adorable! You have to agree that he’s adorable.”

Ludwig’s eyebrows furrowed. “I-- Um. Well, I’m not sure…”  _ Was he adorable? _

The barista’s bright smile came to mind, and Ludwig’s frown deepened in concentration as he tried to recall the details of his face... 

“Ohoho. I’ve got you thinking about him, now.” Francis said, with a deviant edge to his voice.

“No,” Ludwig murmured. “Not really.”

“Mmm…” Francis didn’t believe him, and he made no effort to conceal it. “Well, tell me what you think if you see him again.” 

\---

Out of slightly morbid curiosity, Ludwig returned to the cafe the following afternoon to see if the barista really  _ was  _ cute. He prayed that he would not see anyone there he knew, especially not Francis. He would not want anyone to get the wrong idea, such as thinking he was only there to check out the barista. 

...Which would really be the  _ right  _ idea, wouldn’t it?

He justified this visit by buying another cup of coffee. Even if he was a pervert, he would still be a patron. Contributing to the economy and all that. 

Maybe he was wasting his time.

As he entered the cafe, he saw that the barista-- ‘Feliciano’ was the name on his nametag-- did indeed have a pretty face. He was cute enough that Ludwig was a little taken aback that he hadn’t noticed him the first time he stopped for coffee. 

Feliciano’s smile as he saw him approach the counter could have put the sun to shame, for all its brightness. He greeted Ludwig, and then commented cheerfully, “it hasn’t been long since you were last here-- was the coffee that good?”

Ludwig nodded dumbly, and an odd feeling of shame came over him, like Feliciano knew exactly why he was back so soon; and that it was not really because of the coffee. He remembered giving Feliciano his name, and placing his order, but not much else of the conversation. He walked back out to his car with his drink, feeling like his face was on fire. 

“It  _ is  _ good coffee,” he muttered around the rim of the cup as he drove home. 

Another excuse. 

**\-----------**

Feliciano remembered where he had seen-- or rather, had heard of-- Ludwig before. He worked as a professor at the nearby university, as Francis had mentioned a few weeks ago in between some outrageous pick up lines. What a small world!

He was glad Ludwig had come back.

As soon as Ludwig left the cafe, Feliciano felt a little embarrassed. He wasn’t sure why he had commented on the frequency of Ludwig’s visits. And was it strange that he asked his name when they had only seen each other twice? Feliciano felt his heart racing, fluttering against his ribs as he thought about this. Had it been beating so fast earlier, or had it just started? Maybe he was thinking too much about Ludwig’s handsome face.

Ludwig  _ definitely  _ had a handsome face. This time, rather than frowning, he was making an embarrassed expression when Feliciano spoke to him. At least it looked like it. How weird. He wasn’t in a hurry this time either, lingering by the counter a bit like he had nowhere else to be, admiring-- 

Wait,  _ admiring? _

_ Oh, okay.  _

Feliciano’s heart thumped quietly in his throat, because hope against hope--

Ludwig couldn’t have been checking him out. 

 

_...But if he  _ **_had_ ** _ been…  _ Feliciano pondered, chewing his lip.

\------------

“He’s talented, isn’t he?”

“Yeah, but are people going to commission cups of coffee? Does he charge extra for designs? No. Is there much of a point to it besides being nice? Art is great and all, but I think people just want their coffee.”

“It all comes down to the taste.”

“Definitely.”

“Yeah. Whatever. It’s still just a minimum wage drudgery, as whimsical and artsy as he can make a latte.”

While locking his bike up to go pick up milk from the grocery store, Ludwig overheard this conversation between two customers standing outside the store with lattes from the cafe  (Ludwig himself had been too embarrassed to go back to the cafe since his last visit, but was beginning to find his avoidance ridiculous. He was trying to get himself to visit again by having another justification to be over in the area-- in this case, getting milk from the grocery store in the same plaza). 

Ludwig could hardly consider himself an artistic person, but he felt he had _some_ appreciation for art. As short and unimportant-in-the-grand-scheme-of-things the conversation he had overheard had been, Ludwig had somehow felt disheartened hearing it. 

It made him wonder what Feliciano did for a living. Did he paint or draw aside from making coffee? The customers had been right about the ‘minimum wage drudgery’ that working as a part-time barista was. Yet Feliciano seemed perfectly happy working where he was, and doing what he did. Why did Feliciano bother drawing beautiful art, yet not charge extra for it? Was ‘because I like to make people happy’ enough of a reason for him to take the extra time to design something for strangers? Did it make  _ him  _ happy to make people happy?

Feliciano’s sunny face came to mind, and Ludwig could picture him as the type of unconditionally nice person who would do something like that.

Thinking about this made Ludwig decide to do something nice spontaneously for Feliciano.

He paid for his milk (his  _ excuse _ ) and headed back home, already formulating a plan.

\---

Half an hour before Ludwig had left for the store, Gilbert and friends had showed up, wanting to crash at his apartment. When Ludwig got back, Gilbert was still screwing around with the same friends and generally being an enormous waste of space.

And--

_ Damn it, _ Francis was here too, now (Ludwig always forgot how wide Gilbert’s circle of acquaintances was), and there was no way, with how annoyingly insightful Francis was, that Ludwig would be able to get away with asking Gilbert and crew to go get lattes at the cafe, without Francis making fun of his pursuits. 

_ Wait, a pursuit!? Is that what this is!?  _ Ludwig wondered wildly.  _ What exactly am I pursuing, though?  _

_ Feliciano’s happiness, right? That’s all... _

 

While standing in the doorway, Ludwig worked up the nerve to demand that Gilbert get up and bring his friends to go on a coffee run and get lattes. 

“ _ Lattes!? _ ” Gilbert snorted, squinting at him questioningly. “Lattes  _ specifically?”  _

“Yes.”

“Why?”

Ludwig saw Francis giving him a bit of a sly look. 

“Why not?” Ludwig muttered. 

\------------

He had brought four people with him this time. Three new faces, and Francis. 

Feliciano wasn’t sure if he had ever seen so many people come through that door at once. How exciting that Ludwig must’ve liked the coffee enough to bring his friends!

Or maybe… Well.

Feliciano wanted to think that the coffee was just Ludwig’s excuse to see him.  

It very well  _ could  _ be, too! It wasn’t a crazy assumption! Feliciano had seen this type of very, very slow and shy and awkward flirting before, with his own two eyes! And if his judgement could be trusted (it  _ could _ ), he would say Ludwig was coming onto him, in a very  _ very  _ slow and shy way. Why else would Ludwig have shown up two consecutive times after his first visit at nearly the  _ exact _ same time both times? It was how someone who didn’t know his work schedule and was too shy to ask, but still wanted to see him would act.  

...Not like Feliciano was paying that close attention to the time Ludwig showed up, or anything. 

It was also telling that he was the first thing Ludwig looked at when he stepped through the door. 

He looked determined, but nervous. He  _ couldn’t  _ just be here to order coffee...

Maybe he would actually give Feliciano a chance to talk to him this time instead of running away. 

Ludwig and his friends crowded around the counter, and Ludwig ordered for all of them; five lattes in total. 

“Draw the thing on them!” the one guy in the group with white hair (was it dyed!?) demanded. “Lud said you draw cool things in the foam. Is it extra? I’ll pay extra if you draw a chicken.”

“Oh no, it’s not extra, but… A chicken…?” Feliciano laughed.

“He’s obsessed,” the pretty brown-haired woman standing next to Ludwig explained, rolling her eyes. 

“I just raise chickens; I’m not obsessed! Chickens are no shit--!”

“Just… excuse him,” Ludwig muttered, suddenly looking very exasperated.  

“It’s fine, it’s fine!” Feliciano assured him. 

Then the other three told Feliciano, one by one, what they wanted him to draw in their lattes. When Feliciano got to Ludwig, he was told to draw whatever he liked. The group was talkative, walking away from the counter and pulling up five chairs around a small nearby table as they waited for their drink orders to be filled. But all Feliciano could think about as he was making the lattes was the silly idea that had popped into his head right after Ludwig had given him his request.

_Should I do it?_ He wondered. _Should I go for it? ...But what do I want from Ludwig? A relationship? A fling? Just to talk to him?_

_ No... _

An  _ icebreaker… _

 

He went for it.

\----------

He couldn’t help it.

Ludwig’s eyes kept wandering back to Feliciano, no matter how hard he tried to concentrate on something else. The steam from the espresso machine made Feliciano’s curls cling to his forehead and fanned little hairs around his face in a very cute way. 

And he was still smiling about something. Ludwig didn’t think he had seen that smile waver once.

\---

Minutes later, Feliciano announced that their orders were all ready. Ludwig went up to the counter and picked them all up, immediately noticing the odd arrangement of the drinks on the tray. 

There were four ceramic mugs, and one takeout paper cup with a lid. 

Feliciano, who seemed to be a little on edge, told him, with flushed cheeks (which were  _ certainly  _ from the steam…), apologetically (but with a hint of a sly smile… could he be hiding something?) that they ran out of clean espresso cups and that he hoped Ludwig didn’t mind the paper. Ludwig assured him he didn’t. 

_ It’s a small cafe. It’s completely likely that they ran out of mugs... _

Puzzled, Ludwig returned to his seat and handed out the lattes to his friends, who pointed to theirs when they recognized the design they had requested, until only the paper cup remained. 

As the other four cooed over the cool and intricate designs Feliciano had drawn in theirs with milk, Ludwig took the paper cup off the tray and placed it in front of himself. 

_ Why in the world did he put a lid on it?  _

Ludwig tried to remember if he had ordered his own latte to go. He didn’t  _ think  _ he did, because-- oh, right-- Feliciano had apologized for not giving him a proper cup... But it really didn’t need a lid on it if he was planning to drink it here.

He popped off the lid to the cup carefully, and was met with a design simple enough for any latte artist to create:

 

A heart. 

 

Ludwig stared at it for a full five seconds, his face going red, before (oh no, regret) looking over at Feliciano with a definitely stupid and startled look on his face, only to find Feliciano looking back at him slyly; elbows propped on the counter with his chin in his hands, like he was expecting this exact reaction. 

And then, as if things couldn’t get any more embarrassing, Feliciano  _ winked  _ at him and Ludwig felt his soul leaving his mortal body---

He was so distracted by this wink that he nearly didn’t notice Gilbert leaning over and asking what his design looked like. Luckily, Ludwig was able to spare himself any further humiliation by  quickly picking up the cup before anyone saw the evidence and slamming it back so fast that he burned his entire tongue and choked a bit on the foam. 

Feliciano had seen this, and out of the corner of his eye, Ludwig could see  _ him  _ doubled over with a hand over his mouth, snickering quietly behind the counter.  

Gilbert groaned and asked Ludwig, “why did you do that!? Don’t you want to show us? No respect for art, honestly…”

But Ludwig was in his own world, sitting in a daze of pain, humiliation, and happiness as he let his espresso cool off. 

 

And he may have slipped Feliciano his phone number under the table when he came to collect the empty mugs.  

 

**Author's Note:**

> Written for the Gertalia Secret Santa 2015 event, for Cyuubi. The prompts were super broad/vague, so I decided to combine all of them into one mess of fluff, coffee, flirtatiousness and hilarity yolo.


End file.
